


A Day In The Life

by shudder



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber
Genre: Brief mention of dysphoria, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Munkustrap is secretly a whiny baby, Trans Munkustrap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24248962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shudder/pseuds/shudder
Summary: Skimbleshanks and Munkustrap spend a Sunday together.
Relationships: Munkustrap/Skimbleshanks (Cats)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	A Day In The Life

**Author's Note:**

> this is a gift for moisotis on tumblr, as part of the CATS fandom gift exchange i put together. i've never really explored this pairing before so this was fun (and difficult!) to do. i hope i did them justice.

Skimbleshanks rolled over in their shared bed, his arm wrapping around his boyfriend’s torso. Waking up together was his favorite part of the day, the way Munkustrap always refused getting out of bed at first, how Skimble would always stroke his hair until he finally did. The routine, which might have been irritating to anyone else, was endearing to him. Getting a moment every day to do nothing but admire the man he was spending his life with, that was what really mattered. This particular morning was no different, maybe just a little sweatier on Munk’s end. Summer was rolling in, and he happened to be a heater even on the coldest days. Skimbleshanks didn’t mind. Nothing a shower couldn’t fix. It was nice out, the sun was already up and he could hear birds chirping. 

Finally Munkustrap sat up, groaning and stretching his arms out. Skimble admired his body, still in awe all these years later how he managed to snag a hunk of a guy like Munk away from all the others. Once Munkustrap was fully conscious and able to form coherent thoughts, Skimble told him their plans for the day. 

“It’s so nice out, I figured we’d head out on a hike up the butte, maybe take a dip in the lake on the way. It’ll be secluded enough for us I think.” He was sensitive to Munk’s dysphoria, of course, but never wanted to highlight it or bring it up inappropriately. He just knew how much Munkustrap loved swimming, and how he didn’t often get to.

Munk nodded, a small smile creeping onto his face. “Yeah, I’d like that. I would. Thanks.” He touched his forehead to Skimble’s, each of them placing a hand on the back of the other’s neck. They sat like this for a beat, Skimbleshanks noting the clamminess of Munkustrap’s hands. 

“You, sir, need a shower.” He pulled away with a smile, his tongue sticking out the tiniest bit between his teeth. Skimbleshanks ruffled his lover’s hair, and pulled on his own pants while watching him walk into the bathroom. He listened to the sink run, the quiet whir of an electric toothbrush soon following. It was a perfect Sunday morning. 

Skimble pulled a shirt over his head before stretching and making his way to the kitchen. Oatmeal and milk, he decided. Once he’d finished his breakfast, and Munkustrap had showered, they got in the car and drove to the base of the butte, making sure to pack all the necessities.

“Why is the pack so heavy?” Munkustrap whined. “It feels like I’m carrying eighty-five pounds.” Skimble smiled. No one except him saw this side of him, and whenever it showed up, he felt like he’d hit the jackpot. Munk was secretly a big baby.

He laughed. “You want to get rid of all the water?”

“Can we?”

Skimbleshanks softly elbowed him. “Give me the bag, you big baby. We’re almost at the swimming hole, anyway. You go ahead and jump in.” He took the pack off Munk’s back, and grabbed a drink of water. When he caught up to his lover, he just sat back and watched him swim for a moment. It was this that he had been waiting to see all summer, the way that Munkustrap always seemed so at home in the water. It was funny, because everyone had always compared him to a cat, but as soon as he got the chance, it was in the river he went. 

Skimble himself would usually just wade up to his ankles, especially up here where the water was so cold. Contented with just sitting back and watching, he propped himself up with the backpack, and cracked open a granola bar.

He’d been right earlier, when he said it was nice out. There were birds chirping, and the sun overhead was warm, but not too hot. The sky was the color of a robin’s egg, and the clouds drifting pass reminded him of days at the fair, they were fluffy bits of cotton candy he could almost reach up and eat. He didn’t even realize he was falling asleep until Munkustrap woke him up.

“Thanks, Skimble. That was a great day.” Munkustrap kissed his forehead gently, backing out of the parking spot they’d been sitting in. “Let’s go get dinner. My treat, since you were the one that found that spot to swim in.” They drove quietly for a bit, along the freeway, just enjoying each other's silent company. The view at the top had been incredible, sharing it with Munkustrap was incredible. 

They arrived at the restaurant, got their table. The waitress was really nice, she even offered “the happy couple” a free dessert with their order. Skimbleshanks ordered chowder with a bread bowl, and Munkustrap had a grilled cheese sandwich. After they finished their entrees, the waitress brought him the dessert she’d promised. 

They had ordered a banana split, and were each given a spoon. The dish was quickly eaten, leaving only a small pool of the chocolate sauce that had dripped off, and the two spoons. Skimbleshanks deftly stacked the remaining dishes in the center of the table, resisting the urge to make an architectural feat in lieu of creating a structure that could easily be swiped off into a bus bin. Before leaving, Skimbleshanks left a sizable tip and a note that said “Thank you so so so much” with a heart. 

Skimble towelled off his hair, already in his pajama pants and slippers. Munkustrap often chided him for the slippers, said they made him look like an old man, but they were comfortable so Skimbleshanks would always laugh it off. Their relationship was part sweetness, part playful bickering, and all love. That was how he felt, wrapping the day’s events up before bed. Brushing his teeth, he replayed the image of Munkustrap swimming upstream, how truly and utterly at peace he had looked. That was love, he decided. It wasn’t about grand gestures and winning huge stuffed animals at fairs. It wasn’t about taking out thousands of dollars in loans to have an extravagant wedding you couldn’t afford. It was about the small moments, the quiet little moments when you look at someone and can’t look away. About when seeing their smile is the only thing that matters in the world, and that you’d do anything to seal this moment in a box forever.

“I love you,” He whispered into Munk’s ear before switching off their bedside lamp. “I love you.”


End file.
